Divine Intervention
by whitewolf0VII
Summary: Draco wants to make changes, but his past just won't leave him. Hermione wants him to change, but her present keeps getting in the way.


**Chapter 1 - Anger**

_Despondent, distracted your vicious and romantic _

_These are a few of my favourite things_

Draco is angry at everything. Again. But not just his usual angry; as tonight in fact, he is angry at himself. A special type of anger; that only originates from one mudblood in particular.

A shudder ripples through him. He needs to stop saying that, he hates it. Force of habit, he says. Disgusting, immature Malfoy, he says, he's not who he used to be, definitely not who he used to be, and now those words have a different effect. An entirely different effect for that matter. Draco dwells on how pure hatred can change so quickly, reverse itself so incredibly, that even he doesn't see it coming; but welcomes it all the same.

He marvels at how he has changed in a matter of months, and how he knows its what he really wants. He hopes. Screw Slytherin and Dad. Screw the Deatheaters and Voldermort. He thinks; a twisted smile warping his boyish features. A couple of months ago Draco never would have thought such things, now he couldn't care less. He is not sure if this is good or bad, but acknowledges it all the same.

Draco storms through the sinister dungeons that are disguised as the Slytherin common room, intent on finding his bed and having some serious thoughts. The prospect scares him. He barges past Crabb, and catches his squarely on the shoulder. Crabb is not pleased about this invasion of personal space, and shouts expletives at Draco. Fine by me, Draco thinks, the sooner I'm out of this place, and away from these people the better. He contemplates why he ever liked Crabb. And if it is even possible for him to do what Crabb suggests to himself. Draco needs to talk to Dumbledore, and fast. He realises this is yet another thought, that he wouldn't have touched with a barge pole a couple of months ago. He needs to be put in another house. He now detests Slytherin and all it stands for, and is pretty sure he no longer has the personality to match. That's right, Draco laughs at the ceiling, I'm changing; changing my ways, becoming a better person. "And for what?" The ceiling silently screams back at him. Draco cannot answer this, he does not know. He will not say it out loud. Much too risky at the moment, he reassures himself.

He is restless tonight, he has forgotten to take his sleeping potion and would rather not dream right now anyway. He finds solace in the moonlight. Walking into the grounds of Hogworts' he debates whether Dumbledore will help him swap houses. He decides that of course he will, oblivious to the fact that he is talking out loud. Dumbledore will understand his eager need to change. He'll see that he is not going mad, that it's just hard for him to alter the things he has been raised to believe in.

A rush of adrenaline stops his frantic thoughts, as he spots a reflection in the water, that he has apparently walked over to. He whirls round to find Rubeus Hagrid peering, concerned into his face. "Malfoy? Are you ok? I thought I heard voices." Draco is not in the mood right now. He is finding it hard to keep his temper securely caged.

"Im fine, for the love of Merlin!, I just went for a walk ok, Hagrid?! Your the gamekeeper, not my keeper, so if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone right now. What were you doing anyway, creeping up on me like that? I nearly had a heart attack! " His words explode from him, in an uncontrollable torrent.

" Oh.. umm.. I er.. I'm sorry Draco" Hagrid stammers, and Draco can see the hurt in his eyes. " I was.. er just coming to see if you were ok, and well, you...um.. are, so I'll be on my way." Draco watches Hagrid practically run off into the night, and feels suddenly very guilty. He doesn't like this newly found emotion, as it seems to be giving him a lot of trouble of late. Hagrid was only trying to help, he should not have turned on him. I'll apologize when I next see him, Draco resolves. Maybe I'll even explain why... Or maybe not, he adds, worriedly. The guilt is not subsiding, and Draco's combination of guilt and anger blackens his mood. He slumps next to a tree with his head in his hands, wondering what, for the life of Merlin, he is going to do about his newly reformed character; and the amnesty he is facing from his father. Part of him cares; wants to stop his life falling down around him, but another part wills him to carry on changing, reminds him that, for the first time in his life, he just might be doing the right thing, and most of all, that he is in love with an amazing Gryfindor.

That part of him is winning, and Draco would bet any amount of Galleons that that part in question is his cold, but thawing heart. However, a victor has not triumphed yet in the battle for Draco's full attention, and Draco is still left with the same conflicting emotions he has tried to reason with since October. He rubs a hand over his eyes, and feels as if he is losing control of his rationality and perspective; a dangerous concoction when mixed with his volatile temper. He speculates on how just one human being can shake him so violently to the core. About how he is no longer himself, because of her, how every thought he has seems to lead back to her, and how he seems to be having trouble with basic choices.  
Left or Right. Good Or Evil. Up or Down. They all merge into one, and the boundaries seem to have disappeared, making it very difficult for Draco to identify their differences, on occasion.

He doesn't know what he wants, who he wants, or even how to get it anymore.

Oh yes. Draco is angry at Hermione Granger. Again.


End file.
